Page 64 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two

“Your turn,” she says, handing the bowl and lighter to me.

God, when was the last time I smoked? Definitely in college, right before I found out about the twins.

That thought has me grimacing—not at the fact that the babies exist, but at how goddamn naive I was thinking I was ever in love with Storm Sandoval.

With a good pull drawn into my lungs, I feel the instant wash of calm come over me.

“Thanks,” I say on an exhale. “Oui, c’est très bonouid.”

I laugh at my corny ass joke and mangled French, but Yennifer just smiles.

“So…is he still hot?”

“Yennifer!” I shout, choking on my next pull. “You’re nuts. I wasn’t looking at him like that.”

Yennifer sucks her teeth and says, “Girl, be so fucking for real. He was fine as fuck back in college. Now that he’s got some hair on his chest? Is he giving Daddy vibes?”

I jerk at that. Daddy. Storm’s a dad, and he didn’t even care.

“No, I wasn’t looking at him like that. He…he pisses me offsomuch. When he came to my condo last night?—”

“Wait a goddamn minute!” Yennifer shouts, snatching the pipe out of my hand. “He went to your condo last night? Bitch, youdid nottell me that. Was it after our call?”

I wince.

“Yeah…?” I rasp, really not wanting to go down this road…the road that leads to me telling Yennifer that I let—no, demanded—my baby daddy finger me against the wall.

Talk about fuckingtoxic.

“Shae Olivya Rivers, tell me what happened last night. And before you say, ‘Nothing happened, Yenn!’ please remember that I have known you your entire life, and I know when you’re lying.”

“Ugh!” I groan, dropping my head into my hands.

“We had words. They were heated words. But he left maybe fifteen minutes after he arrived, so that was that.”

“And did he?” Yennifer asks.

“Did he what?”

“Arrive.”

I choke on my spit, coughing so hard my throat burns.

“Jesus, Shae. Don’t die on me,” Yennifer mutters.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice sounding like Marge Simpson. “Please change the subject. There’s nothing more to say about last night’s discussion.”

Yennifer looks at me with the weed an inch from her mouth for several seconds. Then, she shrugs, pulls in a hit, and passes it back to me.

“What did he say about the kids? Did he apologize at all?” she asks, not letting the topic of Storm go.

I sigh and hand the bowl back over to her, but she shakes her head.

“Take another hit,” she demands, and because I’ve been so damn stressed out over the last forty-eight hours, I do so.

“He didn’t mention them,” I reply, holding in the smoke while I speak and then releasing it.

Yennifer tilts her head to the side after I speak, taking the bowl and lighter without looking at the items.